


the enormity of my desire

by myrmeraki



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hair Washing, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Showers, if you know you know, its just that one reddit post, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrmeraki/pseuds/myrmeraki
Summary: Sam wasn't just anybody.Josh loved Sam more than anything in his entire life. Josh was terrified of Sam more than anything in his entire life.He started crying.
Relationships: Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	the enormity of my desire

**Author's Note:**

> ask and ye shall receive, my lovely twitter mutuals that fuel my habit of putting these characters and myself through emotional harm for fun. leave a comment if you liked it, they truly make my day!!

Sam laid a hand on Josh's chest and sighed, "What's wrong?"

This was not something anyone would want to hear after having sex with their tentative-boyfriend _slash_ best-friend _slash_ coworker for the first time. 

"It's nothing," Josh lied. And because Sam was his tentative-boyfriend _slash_ best-friend _slash_ coworker _slash_ person-who-knew-him-best-in-the-world, he didn't believe it for a second. 

Sam sighed again, his chest rising and falling in a slow wave. Josh was all too aware of the hammer of his heart under Sam's discerning fingertips. He wouldn't have been surprised if the gesture was both of affection and perception. Of course, Sam knew he was lying. 

"Really?" Sam said. Josh sensed Sam carefully omitted the rest of the sentence, the 'We're really doing this now?' part. 

"Really, Josh turned the word back at him, "I'm okay." 

Sam twisted his mouth this way and that as he always did when thinking, and shifted off of Josh's chest. He kept his hand over Josh's heart like an anchor as they moved to lay side-by-side. 

Josh bit the inside of his lip, as _he_ always did when thinking, and continued to stare at the ceiling. He could feel Sam's working brain and detective eyes turned and staring through him.

"Stop looking at me like that, man." Josh rubbed his closed eyes with his palms until he saw neon behind them. 

"Like what?" Sam snapped. The tiny beads of sweat on Josh's forehead had gone cold and he scratched a hand through his hair. It was wrong. It was all wrong. Josh's back hurt and his thighs and stomach were messy and he was frozen in space, staring at the same water spot on his ceiling. He should be happy, right? This was what he'd wanted. For so long, this was what he'd wanted. 

He should say something. He should get something for them to clean up. He should just say sorry even if he didn't know what for. 

Instead:

"I'm gonna take a shower." 

Sam scoffed and set his mouth in a line.

"Sure." 

"What is your problem?" Josh sat up and pushed Sam's hand off his chest at the same time Sam scooted away from him. 

"What's my problem? Me?" Sam scoffed again and placed his hand on his chest in disbelief. His thumb landed next to an angrily red mark fading into purple just under his collarbone. 

"You wanted this," Sam continued, "You asked for this _multiple times,_ let's not forget." 

Josh balled and un-balled his hand into a fist at the other side of the bed.

"Yeah."

"That's it?" Sam shook his head. 

Josh blinked into the water spot as it and the rest of the ceiling grew watery and blurred. How'd he get here? How'd they both get here? He thought he wanted this, and he did, so why did he feel so terrified? 

"That's all there is." 

"What's wrong, Josh? What do you want?" It was Sam trying to throw him one last olive branch, a pleading attempt to make this alright. Josh had no idea what was wrong, other than himself. He had no idea what he wanted, other than Sam. 

"Nothing."

He shrugged and blinked, hard. He willed the blur in his eyes to dissipate and swallowed. 

"Is this how it's gonna be?" Sam breathed, "It's gonna be 'Sam, I want you to fuck me' and 'Sam, stay the night' and then when I do you give me, literally, 'nothing'?"

Josh drew up energy from the tips of his toes and coaxed the energy into his neck as he shook his head. 

"Then what do you _want_?" 

What did he want? To be at Sam's place instead so he could run away. To stop staring at the ceiling. To have never had Sam come here. To go to sleep. To have kissed Sam the first day they met under the yellow trees outside Nassau Hall. To kiss him again, now. To stop his heart from beating its fists against his ribcage. 

"To take a shower."

Sam looked as if he was going to yell at him again, and Josh could tell that he wanted to. Instead, Sam deflated completely and turned away from him. He curled onto his side and pulled the blankets over his shoulder. Josh glanced over at him, and he could pretend Sam was just sleeping. This was just another hookup. No, no he never wanted to even pretend Sam was like that. He wanted to pretend they were okay, that this had gone right, that Josh had kissed him and thanked him and they could fall asleep together like this. 

"Feel free to join me," Josh said. He let the bitterness and irony slip into his mouth like a thief, but he meant it. He wanted to mean it. He had no idea anymore. 

_What do you want?_

_You._

_What are you afraid of?_

_You._

Josh carefully lifted the blanket off his lap and swung his legs over the bed. He wished he could pick up the sheets and wrap them around his shoulders. Being naked felt so wrong now. Absolutely no armor, no protection. 

He padded over to the bathroom and shut the door. He didn't lock it. He did turn on the lights. A reflection stared back at him, a mangled mess of light and color and eyes. He didn't recognize himself, didn't know himself. Why did he feel like this? 

He should be happy. How long had he wanted this? How high could you count? There was absolutely no reason why he should feel anything but ecstatic. 

Josh rubbed his eyes again and blinked into the mirror. His palms and his cheeks were wet, and he was shaking. Why was he shaking? What the hell was wrong with him? He should be happy. Why wasn't he happy? Josh stared at the streaks of tears on his hands and breathed in and out. Watching the rise and fall of his stomach, turning away at the sight of his scar, he remembered with a wince why he actually needed to shower. 

The water fell like shards of ice onto his palm as he waited for it to warm up even a little bit. God, what the fuck was wrong with him? He didn't want to treat Sam like just another fuck-and-run, a hookup he could alienate and then forget to call. He absolutely could not do that. He _needed_ to not do that. Sam wasn't just anybody, Sam wasn't someone he'd get a second chance with. 

He stepped into the shower right as it turned this side of lukewarm, the spray turning his chest and arms into goosebumps. He scrubbed his body with soap until everything below his chest turned an angry red, suds and mess and tears running down the tub. 

Sam wasn't just anybody.

He sat down under the water as it grew hotter, curling his knees to his chest. 

Josh loved Sam more than anything in his entire life. Josh was terrified of Sam more than anything in his entire life.

He started crying. 

Snot and tears piled up over Josh's face, and he wiped them away under the water. His back shook with sobs, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't feel anything in the water. 

_Get a grip, Josh._

There was no surface, no purchase to be found. His hands and thoughts reached out for something to ground him and found nothing but heat and salt and pruning fingers.

A knock on the door.

"Josh?"

Oh, _God_ , Sam. Josh couldn't let him see him, not like this, not yet. Sam knew he was fucked up, always had been, and more so since Rosslyn, but not this bad. How could Josh look him in the eyes after this, forcing onto him much more than he bargained for? 

"I'm gonna come in if that's okay." 

It was not okay, but Josh couldn't exactly breathe right now, let alone speak.

Josh vaguely heard the door click open and closed again. Sam turned on the fan and stepped closer to the shower.

"Are you okay?" 

Josh bit his lip, muscles clenching and unclenching with the effort to keep the tears soundless and the sobs noiseless. He nodded his head, even though he knew Sam couldn't see him.

"Hey," Sam said as he knocked on the side of the wall, "You wanna let me in?" 

Josh cracked. He opened his mouth to breathe and let out an ugly cry.

"Josh?" 

" _Please_." 

Sam pulled back the shower curtain and sucked in a breath. That was it, it was over, Josh was a stupid fucking mess and it was all over because he couldn't keep it together enough for one night.

"It's okay, it's okay," Sam whispered. Sam nodded for Josh to move over and he did. Sam leaned against the back of the tub for Josh to sit against his chest, and Josh let him. Sam wrapped his arms around Josh's chest as he cried, and Josh let him.

"I'm sorry," Josh whispered when all the tears ebbed. He rubbed at his nose and sniffled. He felt pathetic, and tiny, and still hopelessly terrified. 

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I ran away. I don't want you to have to deal with me like this." Josh pushed back his wet hair and took a shaky inhale. 

Sam pressed his lips to Josh's shoulder, and Josh willed himself not to cry again. Didn't he know this was coming? Wasn't he afraid of this from the beginning, that Sam would get too close one way or another, Josh would lose him and it would be his fault? 

"Can you stand?"

Josh nodded, and then they did. Sam traded places with him and quickly scrubbed himself down. The water had turned cool on Josh's hair and he shivered with his back to the tiled wall.

"Come here," Sam said. 

Josh took a step towards him, and Sam pulled him under the spray of water, wrapped him in his arms so tight Josh felt as if he'd disappear. He'd melt away like a sliver of soap and get flushed down the drain. 

"I care about you a lot, you know that?" Sam whispered so close Josh could almost feel his lips against his ear. 

"Yeah," Josh croaked out in a voice so hoarse from crying it was barely his own.

"If you need some time or space I'll give it to you," Sam continued as he let Josh go, "Whatever you want, you just have to say so."

"Just-" Josh broke off and wiped at his eyes again, a fruitless task since the tears would be camouflaged under the water. 

"I'm just not used to this is all," Josh said.

_I'm not used to sticking around. I'm not used to having someone want to stick around. I'm not used to being wanted. I'm not used to wanting anything this much, other than a campaign, and it scares me to death. I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified it's too much and too soon. I want you too much and it breaks me._

Sam pushed back Josh's wet mop of hair and kissed his forehead. He reached behind him and opened the shampoo bottle with a muffled snap. With a nickel-sized drop in his hands, Sam close to Josh and began to run his hands through Josh's hair. Josh closed his eyes again, fighting down more tears. He wouldn't cry again, he couldn't do that. He concentrated on anything else. The shampoo, smelling like mint. Sam's hands in his hair, working the soap into a lather and massaging small circles into his temple. The feel of his feet on the tub, colder than the rest of him. Sam humming _La Vie En Rose_ like the pretentious, stupid, wonderful man he was.

Josh was in love with him. It hit Josh in the chest like the barrel of a shotgun for the third time that night. Sam moved Josh under the water and ran the soap from his hair, letting his hands rest behind Josh's neck even after all the shampoo had disappeared. 

There were no words for what Josh felt. Was it possible to be so overwhelmed by terror and contentment and bliss all at the same time? 

Josh opened his eyes, finally, and Sam smiled at him. It was a sign of relief and care and some form of adoration Josh didn't think existed until then. 

"Stay?" Josh whispered.

"Of course." 

Josh kissed him, slow in the way falling asleep is slow. It was hard to breathe between the crying and the steam and the water and lips, but they managed well enough. Josh wrapped his arms around Sam's waist and held them chest to chest, and they kissed until the water around them ran cold. 

They went back to bed curled into each other like quotation marks, Josh holding Sam to his chest. 

"Hey, Sam?" Josh whispered. His heart hammered. 

Sam's breathing had turned slower and deeper, but still, he grunted in a barely-there response.

"I care about you too." 

**Author's Note:**

> :D


End file.
